


Five Wishes

by BlackJacketsandPens



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: BIG BIG, BIG KH3 EPILOGUE SPOILERS, Gen, Spoilers - Kingdom Hearts III, braig is sadder than i thought, just added a flashback bit and altered some lines, not that i needed to change much, rewritten literally because canon updates and i NEEDED to, still my favorite fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-05 19:26:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17924888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackJacketsandPens/pseuds/BlackJacketsandPens
Summary: Drinks under a meteor shower. Five men make wishes, that may or may not come true.Rewrite of a rewrite of a very old fanfic from my FFN. Radiant Garden crew-centric, now KH3 compliant and with extra helpings of feels and pain.





	Five Wishes

It was a crisp, clear night in Radiant Garden. Everyone had long since gone to bed, and even the guards had retired from their posts for the evening -- it was peaceful, the Garden, and for the guards it was just a job like any other. Dilan and Aeleus had returned their weapons to the armory and headed inside the castle, and all was relatively quiet.

Well. Alright, not entirely. Even was in his lab, working on something or other -- one of maybe a dozen or two projects, haphazardly started and worked on by Ansem, bouncing from one to another with the enthusiasm of a child and leaving Even to pick one to focus on and actually get it _done_. It had been that way with many of the major projects the king and his foremost apprentice had worked on, including the Radiant Garden OS -- but really, Even didn’t suppose he minded. Things got done anyway, and Ansem’s ingenuity made up for his flighty focus.

But his work was interrupted rather suddenly by a faint but very close _pop_ and the sound of space being filled in moments where once there was nothing, and he had mere seconds to groan before Braig draped himself cheerfully across the scientist’s shoulders. “Even!” He said brightly, dark brown eyes bright. “Put that shit down, c’mon, come with me.”

“Give me one good reason why I should go _anywhere_ with you when I’m in the middle of something, you walking distraction?” Even said irritably, though there was bemused fondness in his eyes. Braig had lived in the Garden for...oh, going on nine years now. No one had known where he’d come from, this dark-haired stranger with such sad eyes, and Ansem’s propensity for collecting curiosities had kicked in, and Braig had been allowed to stay at the castle. It had taken five years to haul the wreck of a man out of the bottle he’d been losing himself in and get him functional -- a group effort, helped immensely by Ienzo’s arrival and Ansem hiring him on as a third personal guard -- but here he was now, an obnoxious and always-grinning man with a bad habit of wanting Even to, gasp, _engage socially_. Well, he was like that with everyone, ignoring personal space and being overly friendly, but one could tell it was genuine, warm, a man who sincerely thrived on human interaction.

Even’s polar opposite, really, but he couldn’t say he entirely minded.

“I got one,” Braig said cheerily, and the weight on Even’s shoulders vanished for a moment, before the man returned to his field of vision, Ienzo in his arms. The seven year old boy waved at Even, looking amused, and Even groaned.

“Oh, now this is patently unfair, what have you roped the boy into now?” Even grumbled. Ienzo was...he was deeply fond of the child, despite himself. He’d been taken in four years ago, a boy barely three who’d lost his parents in a house fire -- normally he’d go to fosterage, but Ansem had been feeling keenly the emptiness of the castle, and he had been friends with the boy’s parents, so he’d taken Ienzo in. He was a...he tried to be a good father, Even had to admit, but Ansem was flighty and childish in a lot of ways, even if he was sincere and good-hearted, and Even had picked up the role of the child’s caretaker. He didn’t mind so much anymore.

 _Meteor shower, Even!_ Ienzo signed excitedly -- the boy was mute, likely from the trauma of the fire, but he’d picked up sign language quickly and forced everyone else to learn, and for those that didn’t understand he usually carried a small notebook tucked in his coat -- and looked up at Braig. _We’re all going to watch it! Come on, hurry!_

Even blinked. A meteor shower? That was rare! And Ansem was likely going to go himself, as in the past months he -- and therefore much of their work -- was focused on other worlds…. “Ah, very well,” he said, standing. “I can spare a little while. Shall we?”

Braig just grinned toothily, using the arm not holding Ienzo to link arms with Even and teleport them both away. It was a brief trip, just a second of a stomach-dropping feeling like you missed a few steps in a staircase, and then they were on a balcony. Dilan and Aeleus were there already, and so was Ansem, the king having spread a blanket out upon the stone and brought snacks up from the kitchen. (Thankfully _not_ sea salt ice cream.)

The meteors streaked across the sky as the small family -- for that’s really what they were, a family, the six of them living in this huge castle together -- watched, Ienzo having moved to Ansem’s lap once they were all comfortable. It was lovely, they all had to admit, bright twinkling lights trailing through the sea of stars -- the countless other worlds out there -- and lighting up the Garden with trails of starstuff.

Ansem slipped away after an hour or so, wanting to go and investigate if the meteors were leaving more of that strange substance from the last time one happened -- Even would have tagged along, but he’d been told to stay both by Ansem and by the weight of Ienzo in his lap, staring up at him expectantly -- and then it was just five of them, sitting together in companionable silence.

It was Braig who broke the silence eventually, fishing a flask -- as much as they’d gotten him sober, he still carried it around anyway ‘for special occasions’ -- out of his uniform and tossing it to Dilan. “Hey, Dil’,” he said brightly. “Make a wish. S’what meteor showers are for, after all.”

( _“Meteor showers?” He asks, puzzled, as he rides Aced’s shoulder up to the balcony. Mom wasn’t there, of course, but the others were, and he watches them in open curiosity. They know more about human things than he does, of course, so...he has to wait for an answer. “What’s so special about falling stars?”_

 _“You can make wishes on them!” Ava tells him, patting the spot beside her and he wiggles down to join her. “Come on, we’ll show you.”_ )

“Just me?” Dilan asked, raising an eyebrow as he caught the flask. “Really?”

“No, you doof,” Braig said, rolling his eyes. “Take a swig, make a wish, pass it on. One for each of us.” A pause. “Well, the squirt’s too young, so he can just pretend to. Don’t want to be pushed off a balcony!” He said that with a wink at Even, who rolled his eyes as well. “Go on. Say out loud, too.”

( _“Here,” Ira says, offering a bottle to Gula, and catching his look. “It’s not alcohol,” he says stiffly, getting laughter out of the others. “It’s supposed to be by tradition, but I’m not letting any of you drink. It’s just cider.”_

 _“Party-pooper,” Gula teases, balancing the bottle on a knee. “Anyway, Luxu, it’s a tradition on a lot of worlds. Take a drink, make a wish, pass it on. I dunno where i came from, but it’s just one of those things that stick.” He grins. “You can go last so you know how it works.”_ )

 _I thought saying it out loud made it not come true?_ Ienzo signed curiously.

“Nah,” Braig said. “That’s stupid. Sayin’ it out loud makes it stronger, especially if you’re around other people. That way they hear it too, and it sticks more.” He grinned, and flapped a hand at Dilan. “Go on, go on.”

( _“Saying it out loud?” He asks, making a face. “That’s dumb, why would you do that? I thought wishes were supposed to be secret.”_

 _“Sometimes,” Invi says, smoothing her skirt as she joins the others on the ground. “But not with these. You see, speaking the wish into words is more powerful magic. If others hear, then the wish sticks more--- it’s more real, the more who know it too, and the power of the wish is made stronger.” She smiles at him. “So if we all hear them, our wishes will be five times stronger.”_ )

“First of all,” Dilan said, and took a long swig of the flask’s contents -- strong whiskey, as always. “You won’t get me to say it out loud.” A sigh, and he leaned on the balcony, closing his eyes. Whatever wish he made...the fact that he was quiet about it was enough for the others to know not to press. They only had peripheral knowledge -- well, all of them except Aeleus, who knew everything and said little -- of the nigh-legendary breakup that had occurred between him and an unknown woman, but it had been horrific enough to affect him even now. No one ever asked about it, but the sheer fact that he wasn’t saying anything aloud about his wish was enough for them not to ask.

( _Gula looks thoughtful, then knocks back a swig of the cider. “I wish moogles didn’t overcharge for everything,” he jokes, and then shakes his head. “Nah. I wish for...” He shrugs. “I can’t think of anything sappy. I have everything I’d want.”_

 _He passes over the bottle to Aced, who sips at it stiffly and turns it in his hands a moment, as if contemplating. His face, not hidden by his mask for once, is furrowed in thought. “I…” He begins, and then sighs. “I don’t want to say it out loud,” he says stubbornly, but with a small smile on his face that meant it was just out of shyness rather than embarrassment. “I know it’s strong enough even without you all hearing it.”_ )

He sighed, then, straightening and tossing the flask to Aeleus. The brown-haired man chuckled as he caught it, taking a swig. “I wish for days like this, nights like this, for now and always,” he said, to be met with friendly laughter from the others.

( _Ira is the next to get the bottle, and he pushes pale hair out of his face to take a drink. “I wish that all the days to come would be this peaceful, this full of happiness,” he says, and flushes at the teasing laughter that gets. “I do,” he says._

 _“Well,” he teases. “Who wouldn’t? Pick something less obvious next time, Professor!”_ )

“Awwww,” Braig said fondly. “That’s so _sappy_ , Ael’. You big softie.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “But honestly, I feel that.” Who wouldn’t wish for peace, for happiness, for days and nights with no worries?

Aeleus passed the flask to Even, who nearly missed it -- eyes were curious on Braig, who seemed to shrink slightly. He’d been oddly quiet at times for a few days now, and it wasn’t the time of the year where he usually got that way. It was strange, and he was vaguely concerned. But it wasn’t anything major yet, so he shook off the thoughts and accepted the flask. He grimaced at it, sighed, and took a swig, coughing as the liquor burned its way down his throat. “How do you even _stand_ this stuff?” He complained, wrinkling his nose.

“Acquired taste,” Braig said with a laugh. “Your wish?”

Even huffed. “I…” He trailed off. What _did_ he wish for? He… “Well,” he began slowly. “I...wish that things would stay like this forever,” he admitted, to more laugher. “Yes, I know it’s corny!” He snapped. “But it’s true.”

( _Invi takes the bottle after Ira, and sips at it delicately, placing it beside her. “Now, I know you’re all going to laugh,” she begins. “But I have to repeat Ira’s wish. I...wish that things could remain as they are, like this, forever.”_

 _“No rule that says you can’t repeat one,” Ira says with a smile, and then pauses to pout at the lack of laughter. That does get laughter, then, and he sighs._ )

“I get it, don’t worry,” Dilan said, amused. “No one said we can’t repeat wishes, either.”

Ienzo nodded emphatically, taking the flask with his small hands and holding it up for a second in lieu of drinking any, before letting Braig take it out of his hands so he could hold up the piece of paper he’d written his wish on. I WISH WE COULD ALL STAY FAMILY FOREVER AND EVER, it said, in child’s blocky script.

( _Ava takes it from Invi, then, and she swigs it, coughing a little, before smiling at them all. “Me too,” she says brightly. “I-I mean, your wishes. I want to be family with you all forever and ever, no matter what happens. That’s my wish.”_

 _She smiles shyly, and he hugs her, Invi on her other side doing the same. “Of course we will,” Invi says firmly._ )

“Oh, Ienzo,” Even said fondy, ruffling the child’s slate colored hair. “Of course we will.”

Was it irony that almost all of them wished for same thing? That they would remain like this forever, peaceful and happy and together? Perhaps. But it did...feel right.

Braig turned the flask in his hands for a moment, his silence long and with that odd quality again, before he took a long swig himself and tucked it back into his uniform. “I wish--” He began, and they all pretended not to notice his voice falter. “I wish...for our happiness. All of us.”

( _It’s his turn, finally, and Ava passes him the bottle. He hefts it for a moment, lifting it to his lips to take a long sip of the sweet cider --- tasting things is still fun, and sweets are his favorite tastes --- before looking at all the others. He’s already decided his wish, before Gula even spoke, and it’s easy._

 _“I wish for all our happiness,” Luxu says, grinning, gold eyes bright. “All of us, forever.”_ )

“You’re all saps,” Dilan said gruffly, though he was smiling, and moved to sling an arm around Braig. “All of you. Completely ridiculous.” He rolled his eyes fondly as Braig turned halfway to bury his face in his shoulder, and patted him. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Clearly none of us would,” Aeleus said with a laugh. “We’ll make sure those wishes come true, won’t we?”

“Well, of course,” Dilan said with a grin, trying to ignore how Braig seemed to stiffen briefly. “All of those wishes. That’s our duty.”

“Yes, well,” Even said, standing and gathering up the drowsy child in his arms. “My duty right now is putting Ienzo to bed. You should do the same.” Despite the sternness in his voice, he too was smiling. “If you intend to make all our wishes come true, you’d best get a good night’s sleep.”

Dilan ruffled Braig’s hair out of place, then, and he shoved him in response, brightening again and laughing as they all went their separate ways. The glow of the still raining meteors lit their backs as they headed off, and it was only Braig who paused to look back out at the balcony, back out at the sky.

He hoped those wishes would come true...no matter what happened next. No matter what he had to do.

* * *

“Vexen!”

The Nobody let out a shrill yelp at the voice suddenly next to his ear, dropping the flask he was holding. The fact that it stopped in midair and set itself neatly on the counter was...well, if he didn’t know the identity of only person who would ever invade his lab and personal space with such little regard for safety, that would be enough. “Xigbar!” He snapped, whipping around and nearly smacking into the other man’s head. “What are you doing, you insufferable-- I have a lot to do before the transfer and you are taking up valuable time, and do you realize what you could have done? I was handling volatile--”

“Shush,” Xigbar said with a smile, and grabbed his arm. A faint pop later and Vexen nearly fell on his face as the Freeshooter stepped away, revealing that they were standing on the Altar of Naught. “Just roll with it, Vex.”

“Stop calling me that,” Vexen said sharply, eyeing the other man. The years and nonexistence hadn’t been kind to any of them, but Xigbar most of all. He’d seemed at some point to forget the concept of ‘scissors’ and his hair had grown long -- too long, Vexen thought sourly, it looked terrible. He kept it pulled back in a ponytail, the bare minimum of maintenance, and that and the grey shot through it made him look far older than he was, or at least far more weathered than he should. Well...the eyepatch and the vicious scar that sliced through his left cheek didn’t help, either.

His smile didn’t reach his eyes anymore, but did any of theirs?

“Vexen,” came another voice, and the scientist turned, only now realizing that there were others there, too -- Zexion, Xaldin, and Lexaeus. It was Zexion who’s spoken, his eyebrows risen. “Seems like Xigbar is really intent on this...whatever it is, if he’s dragged _you_ out here.”

Xigbar rolled his good eye. “Look up,” he said. They all obeyed. The sky was bright and moonless, lit by countless stars -- one day soon it would be filled with the light of Kingdom Hearts, but that was a work in progress. But...it wasn’t the sky they saw constantly, at the moment, the eternal midnight of the World that Never Was. Meteors shot through the sky, a hundred trails of light crossing the space between worlds and causing shadows to dance on the white metal floor they stood on.

“Ah,” Zexion said, sounding vaguely bemused. “Really?”

“Really,” Xigbar said. “Three of us are leavin’ for CO in the next couple days, right? Won’t be seeing each other for a while. Figured s’the last time we’ll get to do something like this for ages.” The smile stayed on his face, tugging at the scar, and despite their lack of hearts there was something slightly softer than usual in his single gold eye. “Indulge me.”

“...oh, very well,” Xaldin grumbled, crossing his arms. Lexaeus was smiling, anyway, and if he was willing to indulge Xigbar, then he didn’t see any way to get out of this. “Make it quick. We _do_ have missions tomorrow.”

Zexion shrugged. “Alright,” he said blandly. “I see no real harm in it. Vexen, you can put up with it for a while, yes?”

“I--” Vexen protested, and let out a frustrated noise. “Fine! Fine. I could be getting important work done right now, you realize, and I’m... _fine_. I’ll indulge your ridiculous nostalgia.”

Xigbar just laughed, shaking his head, and produced a flask from somewhere -- it could have been his coat, or anywhere else and he’d just plucked it from there with his spacial magic -- to toss at Xaldin’s head. “You know the rules,” he said. “Take a swig, make a wish, say it out loud. No wishing for your heart, either, that one’s a given.”

Xaldin snorted. “Fine,” he said, taking a swig of the familiar whiskey. “I wish that the brats under us would learn some responsibility and work ethic.” His voice is irritated for a brief moment, and he hands off the flask to cross his arms again. “Layabouts.”

“You mean Demyx, mainly, I take it?” Zexion asked, and Xaldin rolled his eyes. “Can’t say I disagree.”

It was a bit sad, Xigbar had to admit. Dilan had never been so...hard, before. Well, he had, but it wasn’t all edges and strictness and irritation. Losing his heart had turned Xaldin into a weapon, and the lancer knew it and didn’t care. Oh, he wanted his heart back, because all of them did, but he wasn’t the man he’d once been. No more softness, just sharp bitterness without anything to temper it. (And not to mention his legendary temper, the thing Xigbar missed most, was a thing of the past.)

Lexaeus tapped the flask a moment in thought, before taking a drink. “I wish that Castle Oblivion goes smoothly, and we’re able to return with little trouble,” he said at length. “Powers know we’ll need that to come true.”

“Given who’s been put in charge?” Vexen asked, his voice a snarl. “Damn right we will!”

At least Lexaeus hadn’t changed much, Xigbar thought as he passed the flask to Vexen. Quieter, for sure, more distant, and with a tendency to defer to Zexion rather than anything else, but other than that...he still was much like who he’d been. A small miracle.

Vexen, on the other hand...he knew there’d been a debate, specifically among the younger members, about if the element of your magic influenced your personality any, or if it was the other way around. Looking at Vexen, Xigbar knew it was the personality that influenced the type of magic. Even had been...anxious, for sure, a perfectionist with a short fuse and a low tolerance for other people, but Vexen had grown icy and brittle, pushing everyone away and snapping and raging at the slightest thing. He was rarely seen by anyone outside of his lab, and the younger members had taken great pleasure in pushing his buttons, seeing how easily Vexen exploded. It was....well, Xigbar never stopped acting the same as he always did with the man, like Braig had with Even, but it wasn’t the same anymore. Nothing was, without a heart, and Vexen was proof of that. Vexen...if Xigbar had a heart, the ice he spat would strike it true.

The scientist took a swig of the whiskey, grimacing and hissing his distaste, but shook his head. “I wish that this lot would actually give me the respect I _deserve_ for once,” he snapped, bristling slightly. “Especially after my project proves a success.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Zexion asked, more bemused and vaguely exasperated than fond. “You know that’s never going to happen. They like tormenting you far too much.” He shrugged. “I suppose it’s worth wishing for, in that case, all things considered.”

Vexen let out another irritated huff, and made to pass the flask to Xigbar, but Zexion snatched it out of his hand and took a swig himself before anyone could stop him. “I’m not a child,” he said flatly, though the look of disgust on his face as he handed the flask off to Xigbar made him look almost like one still. “Don’t condescend.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, squirt,” Xigbar said with a grin, not faltering even when the youngest of their number turned a scathing look upon him. “Go on, what’s your wish?”

Zexion’s brow furrowed a moment as he considered it. As sad as Vexen was, Zexion was probably the worst of it, Xigbar thought. He’d been eight when his heart was taken, and now he was nearly twenty, grown from a child to a man in the shadow of nonexistence, unable to feel anything. Were he to regain his heart, would he be able to be human again? Or was he permanently damaged somehow, doomed to be this condescending and proud schemer, who had seemingly lost all love for his father figure and only barely tolerated anyone else but Lexaeus, who was wise enough to still know how to handle him. The worst tragedy of all, the loss of innocence.

“I wish,” he said finally, “that Xemnas would actually, perhaps, be honest for once. Or at least make _sense_ in his monologues.” That got scattered chuckles -- because really, it was true, wasn’t it -- and even Xigbar laughed. Not that it would ever happen, really. Xigbar knew that best of all. But it was worth a wish.

He held the flask in his hand for a moment, wondering at himself --- how he’d changed. Had he? Sometimes he couldn’t tell how much he was still himself, and how much was...not --- and saying that was hilarious, given what he already was. How many of the dark and morbid thoughts in his head were still his, and how many were someone else’s influence, invading a mind that was already far different than most? His words were still his own, but for how long? Saix’s eyes were already gold, and every day he entered the Grey Area he scanned every face to see if another had joined him. Not feeling anything was a blessing, let him be his usual cheery and obnoxious self, if he had to admit it. He could only be the same _because_ he had lost his heart, because he was _used_ to having none. If it were still there...if it were still there, whatever was left of it as it was consumed would be unbearable, the accumulated weight finally too hard to carry.

“I wish,” he said finally, taking a long swig and draining the flask dry to chase the thoughts away. “That we all get what we want.” No one would understand the true meaning in those words, he thought, and no one did, everyone rolling their eyes at him assuming he was just being sentimental. That was good -- no one should know, and no one would. This was his to bear, until the end came and they were all together beneath Xehanort’s thumb or whole and free and out the other side. He’d keep his secrets til kingdom come -- or Kingdom Hearts, he thought in bitter amusement.

“Still a ridiculous sap,” Xaldin said, shaking his head.

Vexen snorted. “As always,” he said, and frowned. “Can we go now? I’ve things to do, and you all know it.”

“Fine, fine,” Xigbar said, waving his free hand leisurely. “Go on.”

They all left, not even sparing a goodbye or another glance, and Xigbar was the last to linger. Not even a goodbye...what was once a family had now grown apart. Certainly they’d stayed together, but...only physically. The bonds they’d once shared were gone...it was familiar, almost, like it had happened once before (and it had, in a way far worse than this), and...and who knew if it could ever be repaired.

Xigbar knew well the part he’d played in that -- but it was done all the same, and no one said he couldn’t...pretend, at least, to regret. They had grown apart, and he’d lost what was almost a family as the price of getting one back. But...all the same. To get what he wanted, to fulfill his role...this was what it took.

And that...that was the last night they all spent under the same stars.

* * *

Xigbar had always hated Proof of Existence. It was creepy. Surreal. Perhaps it was a comfort to some of them, the bright blue panels and their doorways alight and marked with their numeral and weapon to show that they were solidly present somewhere. But...but to Xigbar, it looked too much like a graveyard, a graveyard like that wasteland he loathed, and it always had.

And now that’s exactly what it was.

Twelve marks, nine of them no longer blue but glaring and bright red, twelve doorways, crumbled and as dead as their owners. Xaldin, Vexen, Lexaeus, Zexion, Axel, Demyx, Marluxia, Larxene, and little Roxas -- all gone. And Zexion’s was even less of a reminder, now, Xaldin having trashed the marking in a fit of the closest thing to grief as he could muster.

All gone. And...Xigbar was alone. Luxord was around, sure, and of course Xemnas and Saix, his fellow conspirators, but...the others were gone. His family, once, the one he’d found and tried to fill the void with, the one he’d cast aside. Dilan, Even, Aeleus, Ienzo...all gone. Sure, perhaps they’d recomplete again, their hearts already half grown back, but they were good as gone right now, and it was right now that mattered.

It wasn’t like he’d ever be able to see them again, if they were whole. Their wills were too strong, or their bodies too weak, to be vessels -- Zexion had nearly been one, but Saix had used his fiery little assassin to see to it that he wasn’t. Perhaps that was a blessing in disguise. But all the same, it meant that they were themselves and only themselves, that they would be safe from Xehanort and alone in their hearts once they were whole.

And Xigbar could never again be part of that. Not after what he’d done, and not while he was still doing it. Even dying here wouldn’t absolve him or save him -- he’d pop right back up, still a vessel, still the very first vessel besides that poor dumb kid, and he’d be one until it _really_ ended, and even if his role would be over after that...

He was still a traitor, now truly what Ava had accused him of all those thousands of years ago. A backstabbing traitor, dedicated to a role that had destroyed so many lives, selfish and unworthy of returning to the new home he’d almost had: he knew that, and it was only because he was a Nobody it didn’t bother him at all.

He sighed, standing from where he’d been curled up against Vexen‘s stone. Sora was here. He knew that, had already been made aware of it by the Lessers. Sora was here, Riku was here, Kairi was here, and so were Ansem and the mouse. All the players that remained for the time being...and now it was time for him to take his spot upon the chessboard, albeit only for a moment for now.

He reached into his coat to pull his flask out, holding it up to the red and empty gravestones.

“May your hearts be your guiding keys,” he said, the old words like ashes on his tongue all the same. “And may they lead you home.”

He took a long swig, before tossing the empty flask aside -- the clatter loud as it slid into a corner -- and shaking his head. “And may mine lead me to where I hope to go,” he added quietly, disappearing with a final pop to go meet with the little Keybearer with the bright blue eyes.

Where he hoped to go...wherever that was. He didn’t know anymore.

But wherever it was? He hoped family would be there waiting.

**Author's Note:**

> Did I literally delete this and repost it in the span of five minutes? Yes. 
> 
> My first thought upon finishing KH3 was I HAVE TO REDO FIVE WISHES IT'S EVEN BETTER NOW, and it turned out that besides adding the little flashback and changing/adding some lines...I didn't have to do much at all. 95% of this is unchanged, and I think that's beautiful.
> 
> This is my favorite one shot, and it always will be, and...it's better now. 
> 
> Poor Luxu. Poor Braig. May your heart lead you home, my sad and tired boy, sadder and older and more tired than I ever dreamed, and may it lead you back to your families.
> 
> (In case you couldn't tell...I am all in on this epilogue hype train, and I'll probably post my headcanons about it in fic form eventually. Don't worry, y'all who know me from AST -- Jasper and Airelann still exist. You'll see how soon enough~)


End file.
